Club the Heart with a Spade to get the Diamond
by invaderdorkavatar
Summary: When the old King of Spades turns up dead, all are quick to blame the Nine of Spades and Ten of Spades, who are now the king and queen - Arthur Kirkland and Alfred Jones. Their world is caught up in a flurry of politics, magic, and mystery as the truth unravels and new events take its place. Cardverse/Cardtalia, rating may go up. USUK, CanAme, FranLiech, ect.


A/N: Salstera is Liechtenstein in this fic!

* * *

Alfred Jones smiled at himself in the mirror, admiring the shiny crown on his head and the ermine cape on his shoulders. They fit him, he silently decided. They fit the brand new King of the Spades, the man who was formerly just the Nine of Spades.

The Nine of Spades seemed like such a lowly title now.

The moment of happiness was cut short when his husband entered the room. Arthur Kirkland looked absolutely pristine, with not a wrinkle in his clothing or a scuff on his boots, though his face was grim and he held a thick, leather sack in his hands - it wasn't big, just big enough to fill his palm.

"Arthur! Did you finish up?" Alfred chirped, happy as ever.

Arthur nodded and gently placed the sack to the side.

"Is that - " Alfred started, but Arthur abruptly nodded.

"Yes. It is."

Alfred made a face. "Did you at least clean them? I don't want anything dripping in here."

Arthur snorted and grabbed the sack after shrugging off his own heavy cape and crown. "Fine, fine. Have the servants put my crown and robe away. I'll clean these and get them into a proper container, and then you can watch my first casting with them." Arthur cracked a grin at the thought of his first proper casting, and it was Alfred's turn to snort.

"I look forward to your queer little ceremony, Arthur."

"It's not queer. Not to me, at least." Arthur chuckled and turned, leaving Alfred alone.

Alfred adjusted his crown, before glancing over the area where the sack once lay. He wrinkled his nose and called the servants in, having them wipe down the area where the sack laid.

Queer little ceremony indeed.

* * *

Salsera's hands slammed the papers down in front of her husband, eyes narrowing at Francis.

"King Alice was found dead in her apartments last night. The papers don't say from what, but I think we can both guess that she was...well, murdered," Salsera said, a hint of both pride and sadness showing through. Alice had been a good person, but perhaps not the best king.

Francis frowned and quirked a brow, only glancing over the paper before he set it down. "And?"

"And what, Francis? This just proves that Nine of Spades and Ten of Spades are heretics, lunatics! You said yourself you've been meaning to take the mines back, and this is the perfect time!"

"Salsera, calm yourself. Saying I wish they were back and declaring war over them are two completely different things! Why are you so intent on declaring war on the Spades? You're too much like your brother these days."

Salsera could have thrown her hands up in the air, but resisted. Instead, her lip twitched a little and she sighed. She had explained this a thousand times, but it never stuck with Francis. Sometimes she thought that she was the queen to the most cowardly king in the four kingdoms.

"Don't you want to right the wrongs that have been committed? My own family used to live there - do you know how humiliating it is to be forced from your ancestral home by _Spades_?" She replied, picking up the papers again. "And it's only a matter of time before these murderers declare war on us. We should attack while we still have the upper hand."

"What makes you so sure they're the ones who killed her? It doesn't even say she was murdered! For all we know she accidentally smothered herself in her sleep. I know things have been tense, but we can't declare war out of nowhere."

Salsera didn't have an answer for that. She would say that Arthur, the nomadic _witch_, was eager to put his powers to use and take out a powerful target. He and his husband were next in line for the throne, after all. But of course, Francis would scoff, ever the atheist when it came to Spade magic.

"The ten of Spades - excuse me, the _queen_ now - is a witch. That's not a secret. That alone is suspicious enough. Arthur and Alfred are both ambitious men. Have you ever heard of a nineteen year old on the council? They didn't get there by chance or by blood, seeing how they're both mongrels. "

"They got there because Alfred's a skilled warrior, and Arthur is a gifted witch. Supposedly. I don't believe that any Spade has magic, but if the Spades want to delude themselves into thinking so, then so be it. If you are so convinced of this, then get me proof, and we will go from there. Sound fair enough?"

Salsera bit her lip and crumpled up the paper, before tossing it into the trash. "Fine." She didn't have any more than a hunch, but she was rarely wrong when her intuition was involved. Something was wrong, and she was bound and determined to find out what it was. Healthy women in their twenties didn't accidentally suffocate themselves and drop dread, witches didn't become queens, and Spades weren't to be trusted.

* * *

It wasn't until the next morning that Alfred saw Arthur again.

Arthur yawned as he sat beside his husband, the sack from earlier resting beside him. He and Alfred sat in a dirt circle, one that had elaborate symbols and designs etched into it. Alfred didn't recognize any of it, but Arthur had grown up on it, and even had a few holy tattoos on his body with the language.

"You're late for your own party," Alfred teased, that ever present grin on his face.

"Not late. I was performing my morning prayers. You know they're important to my people."

"I've never seen you pray."

"For the _ceremony_, idiot," Arthur scoffed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Alfred didn't understand a thing about Arthur's people or their ways, and simply went silent as Arthur dug into the sack.

"Thought you were going to put them in something else?"

"I had something else commissioned for them. It'll be a week before it's finished though, so the sack will do."

Alfred went silent again, shivering when Arthur gleefully produced bones from the sack. He carefully laid them out and brought out a knife, and cut into his fingers. With the blood produced he began to dab at the bones, quickly decorating them in red. It looked like a whole lot of nonsense, but apparently it all meant something.

Suddenly, Arthur gathered up all the bones, said a quick prayer, and tossed them all into the circle.

They landed in a mess, and Arthur greedily looked over them, before taking out a pen and paper and scribbling down something. He glanced back and forth between the bones and paper, smearing the paper with his blood and stirring up dust every now and again.

Once he was done, he gathered the bones and stamped out the circle, and gestured for Alfred to stand.

"That's it?" Alfred questioned, frowning as he stood. Arthur arched a brow and laughed.

"What the bloody hell were you expecting?"

Alfred's face flushed in embarrasment, and he lightly punched Arthur in the arm. "It would help if you would actually explain yourself from time to time instead of just dropping hints. Your...religion is confusing and weird."

"Tsk, I thought you would have picked up on things by observing. You're such a dolt sometimes."

"Oh, shush. What does all that mean anyway? You said casting tells the future, so what does the future hold for us? It better be right too, for all the trouble we went through to get _these_ particular bones."

Arthur grinned and shoved the bones into the sack, but kept the paper in hand. "I can't say for sure yet until I go back and examine it thoroughly, but from what I can see, it looks like we'll get a chance to properly use our skills again. Isn't that lovely?"

"No. I don't want - "

"You shush now. You're a warrior, you will fight, like it or not. The future can't be avoided."

Alfred scowled and crossed his arms, obediently following Arthur back to the castle. Arthur had gotten them this far, but he couldn't help but feel apprehensive about his casting. He hoped it wasn't a war; not this soon after being crowned, at least. He wanted to bask in the luxurious lifestyle he had inherited for awhile; not be out fighting again, not after he spent his whole life doing that.

Perhaps the future could be avoided for just a little while.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! It's been a year or two since I've written anything fandom related, but I'm still kickin'! I hope you enjoy this fic. As of right now there is a very, very loose plot, and I'm just making things up as I go along. This wasn't beta'd and I didn't get any feedback on it, so I'm sorry if anything seems off!


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